The author's note on chapter 1 was already too long, but in case anyone was curious, the title to this story is based on Byakuya's poem from Volume 7:

We should not shed tears

That is a surrender of the body to the heart

It is only proof

That we are beings that do not know

What to do with our hearts


Chapter 2

"Lieutenant," Byakuya declared the moment Renji walked in from morning drills on Monday. "I require your expertise."

"Hit me up," Renji replied, settling Zabimaru on their sword rack. "Sir."

"My precious sister, as you know, is a sweet and generous soul."

"The sweetest," Renji agreed.

"She wishes to invite the other vice-captains to her fete."

"Right, Guard Captain Kamata already talked to me about that. He said that meant you wanted to invite the other captains, too."

Byakuya's jaw twitched. "It is not that I want to. I absolutely do not want to. However, propriety demands it, and I am no more free from the shackles of etiquette than any man."

"I hate when that happens," Renji replied, having no idea what the correct response to such a statement should be.

Byakuya's nostrils flared. "You served under Captain Zaraki for a number of years. He seems the type to fraternize with his subordinates."

"Are you asking if I've ever gotten drunk with him? Because I definitely have."

"I am asking if you know the man, and more specifically, if I invite him to a party, how can I convince him not to attend? If I deliver the invitation at an inopportune time, is it possible he would lose it? He seems disorganized."

Renji nodded knowingly. "Oh, for sure, but that wouldn't solve your problem. You could also write 'dress attire required' and he wouldn't come within 10 spirit miles of your place."

Byakuya's face brightened.

"The problem is Lieutenant Kusajishi."

Byakuya's face fell.

"I don't know that Rukia'd care all that much if she doesn't show, I can double check if you want, but you can't not invite Yachiru, she would definitely find out. She's gonna be all in for a fancy dress-up party at your place, and she's gonna insist the captain takes her." Renji sucked his teeth thoughtfully. "I got an idea, though."

"What is it? How do we dissuade her?" Byakuya asked, his voice low and eagerly conspiratorial.

"Oh, we don't. This is an outsourcing problem." Renji walked over to Byakuya's desk and held out his hand. "Gimme their invitations. I'll take care of it."

"You'll...take care of it?" Byakuya stared at him in disbelief.

"I'll take care of it," Renji repeated more firmly, wagging his fingers in a "hand it over" gesture. Byakuya reluctantly passed over a pair of envelopes of thick, creamy colored paper. Renji considered something for a moment. "How about Twelve? You want Twelve there?"

Byakuya made a face. "Lieutenant Kurotsuchi is unobjectionable."

"Gimme theirs, too."

Gingerly, Byakuya turned over two more.

"Now stop worrying about it. I tell you, I got it covered."


"Give it to him yourself," Yumichika muttered, refusing to look up from his expense reports. This was just typical Yumichika performative shade, they both knew perfectly well that he didn't give a crap about expense reports.

"If I do that, he'll lose it. Or forget."

"So?"

"So, my captain really wants at least one high ranking representative from each squad to show up. He said Eleven was a pit of uncultured voles who wouldn't bother to acknowledge the promotion of a new lieutenant, and I told him-"

"He's right," Yumichika cut Renji off. "Frankly, it's not going to make your case if Zaraki and Yachiru did show up."

"Or a high ranking representative," Renji quickly added.

"Whatever, what kind of…" Yumichika trailed off. "This is a party at Kuchiki's house?"

"Yeah," Renji replied.

"It's swanky?"

"Super swanky."

"Uniforms required?"

"Formal attire requested, uniforms acceptable if you don't have any." Renji stretched back and rested his head on his interlaced hands. "I'm gettin' a dress uniform, so I can match the rest of the swanky lads over in Six, only better looking. Gonna out-swank the dang Soul King, I am."

Yumichika wrinkled his nose, horrified. "How are you doing your hair?" He waved an accusatory finger. "You aren't doing that, I'm telling you that much."

"Whaddyou care? You won't be there. Maybe I'll just wear it down. Or maybe a big fat French braid with extra hairspray like you hate."

"Maybe I will be there," Yumichika snapped. "I am highly ranked. Give me those," he snatched the envelopes out of Renji's hand.

"I'm sure the captain will give up easily. You gonna escort Yachiru? I bet she's dying to go."

Yumichika snorted. "Please. I'll just tell her the menu is all vegetables and you don't get to do anything fun until you've cleaned your plate. Ikkaku will accompany me, and you will look like a peasant beside us, dress uniform or no. And I will personally shave your hideous head before I let you go anywhere in a French braid."

"Buddy, I am a peasant, in case you forgot," Renji chuckled.

Yumichika regarded his old subordinate with a twinge of sympathy in his expression. "This party is for Rukia?"

"Yes, and for serious, Rukia is gonna look like a billion kan, and I will kick your stupid butt if you say otherwise, you got that?"

Yumichika rolled his eyes indulgently. "I was going to offer to help you figure out your makeup so you don't embarrass her."

"Oh," Renji replied, surprised. "Sure, that'd be real nice."


"You want me to what?" Akon asked, looking up from a sparking pile of wires and what appeared to be a functioning intestinal tract.

"I don't want to talk to your creepy old captain," Renji declared.

"Look, Abarai, he won't go. If Kuchiki invites him himself, he'll go out of spite, but if I give him the damn thing, it won't be interesting to him and he'll make me take Nemu in his place." Akon blinked and stood up a little straighter. "That's exactly what you want, isn't it? Kuchiki doesn't want my boss creeping up his nice party."

Renji shrugged noncommittally. "Rukia would really like it if you came."

"Dammit, Abarai, you are really stretching the bounds of friendship, here!"

"Inviting you to a party is stretching the bounds of friendship? Do you know what kind of gonzo booze and food they have at these things?"

Akon looked unimpressed.

Renji drummed his fingers on the table. "Fine. What's your price?"

Akon looked genuinely confused. "My what now?"

"Your price. Look, obviously, you'd be doing me a big favor. I can do you something in return. No weird Squad Twelve experiments, personal favors only!"

Akon still looked confused. "It sounds to me like I would actually be doing Captain Kuchiki a favor, or possibly Rukia. Why should you be the one returning it?"

Renji scratched his head. "I dunno. I took this on myself and if they're happy, I'm happy. So what'll it be? I'm a great personal trainer, I know how to procure all kinds of gray market goods from the Rukon, and I look good in shorts."

"No one looks good in shorts, Abarai," Akon informed him, but his eyes had taken on a scheming glint. "You wear those things for sports, though? Football?"

"Futsal," Renji correctly. "It's like football, but you only have five players and-"

"I don't care," Akon cut him off. "The important thing is that you know about football. The rules and stuff?"

"Yes, of course I know the rules of football."

"How about pro football? The names of the teams and who did a basket to who back in '66?"

"What are you talking about, man? Yes, I follow major league football. Was that the question?"

"I will take Nemu to that party," Akon declared, his lips curling into what looked horrifyingly close to a smile. "In return for one favor."


Rukia sat back on her butt with a puff of dust. She knew the Thirteenth's record keeping situation was somewhat dire, but she had not expected to find filing cabinets full of petty cash vouchers from literally 500 years ago. She glowered around the storage room. "I'm your lieutenant, now," she muttered at the filing cabinets. "Your days here are numbered."

There was the muffled sound of male voices from the main office. Rukia checked the time on her phone, surely it wasn't that late- yes. Yes, it was that late.

Rukia skidded into the front room, trailing manilla folders and cobwebs.

Her captain, who, from the hand gestures, had been relating that story about Captain Hitsugaya and the malfunctioning senkaimon again, stopped mid-sentence and said, "Ah, there she is! I was about to send for a team from the Patrol Corps to go search for you."

"Excuse me, sir, Lieutenant Abarai and I have to run an errand on my lunch break," Rukia barked with a bow.

Captain Ukitake's eyes flicked over to the tall young man leaning casually in the doorway, and then back at his flustered lieutenant. "By all means, don't let me keep you! And take your time, Kuchiki, that filing has been sitting for a few centuries now, it won't suddenly fall to dust if you don't get it done this afternoon."

Rukia's cheeks colored. "I'm just trying to get ahead, sir, since I have to take a few days off later this week."

"And I told you, that's perfectly fine, too. Go do your errand, take extra time if you need. I don't want you to skip lunch."

Rukia opened her mouth to protest again, but something hit her in the chest and she instinctively put out her hands to catch it. It was a bento, tied up in a Chappy-print furoshiki.

"I made you some onigiri," Renji cut her off. "We can eat while we walk. C'mon, let's go. You owe me a raincheck on the other half of that story, Captain!" he called cheerfully, waving to Ukitake.

"Come by again any time! Rukia's friends are always welcome at the Thirteenth, Lieutenant!"

"Your captain's so nice," Renji observed, picking a dust bunny out of Rukia's hair as they headed out of the gates of the Thirteenth.

"I don't want him going easy on me," Rukia grumped, biting into a rice ball. "I want to do a good job right out of the gate. But that filing system is a disaster. I might try to come up with something from scratch, can't possibly be worse than what we've got now."

"How did drills go this morning?" Renji mumbled around a cheekful of food.

"You were right, moving drills to the early morning is great! I didn't think I would like it-I'm not a gross early bird like you, but starting the day by shouting at people is so satisfying!"

Rukia glanced up and over and realized that Renji was regarding her with soft eyes.

"What the Hell's that look for?" she demanded.

Renji, unphased, brushed a piece of rice away from his mouth with his thumb. "I love watching you do lieutenanting. I knew I was gonna, and it's even better than I thought it would be."

Rukia's ears burned. "You're such a dork," she informed him.

Renji laughed. "I know it." He swallowed another mouthful. "You still sure you want to do this?"

"Do what? Get tattoos?"

"It is permanent, you know."

"You're just trying to talk me out of it because once I am inked, you will no longer be cooler than me."

Renji made a face. "Like I ever was."

Rukia cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Yes, I am sure," she confirmed. "Although I am wondering if maybe we shouldn't reschedule. I still haven't figured out how I'm going to get out of the house on Friday night when we have all these guests."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I wrangled it."

"You… what?"

"I wrangled it. You're clear. Stop worrying."

Rukia stared at him, but it was clear he wasn't going to give any further detail. "So how far out in Rukongai is this place? You're sure we'll be back in an hour?"

Renji looked confused for a moment. "It's not in Rukongai, it's here in town, over near Sword Row."

Now Rukia looked confused. "You change places? You complained at me for an hour after you got The Brows about how unjust it was that tattoo artists weren't allowed to operate in the Seireitei unless they had a sponsoring noble house."

Renji's eyes went wide. "You remember that?"

Rukia sniffed. "You always think I don't listen to you, but I do, you know, even when I am very angry with you, which I was at the time."

Renji's massive hand crashed down on her head, touseling her hair. "You're a very good friend, Kuchiki. I probably don't tell you that enough." Before Rukia had time to work up a really good blush, he stumbled on, "Anyway, that regulation got relaxed a few years ago and they moved into the city. Real convenient for me, I gotta say, and they get a crap-ton of shinigami business now."

"It 'got relaxed'?" Rukia echoed, her voice dripping with skepticism. "Renji, this is the Seireitei, regulations don't just 'get relaxed.'"

Renji shrugged, and stuffed the rest of his onigiri in his mouth. "They do when someone finds out the mailing address of the City Business Development Minister and publishes it in the Bulletin with some suggested boilerplate for writing in. It helped that it happened to run right underneath a 'Best Tattoos in the Gotei' vote-in contest that did big numbers."

"I don't believe you! I mean, I do, this is peak you."

"Who says I had anything to do with it? The assistant editor of the Bulletin at the time happened to be a big tattoo buff himself."

Rukia rolled her eyes.

"Iba was the one who got me the guy's address," Renji's excuses went on. "I guess his mom knew someone who knew someone. And it was really for his own benefit. Do you know how many sessions that monstrosity on his back took?"

"Iba has a back tattoo?" Rukia made a disgusted face.

Renji made an even more disgusted face. "You've never seen it? Lucky you. It's an abomination."

"So, did you win?"

"Win? Win what?"

"The tattoo competition. I hope you won! Did you pose shirtless in the Bulletin? What was I thinking, leaving you alone for forty years?"

Renji laughed. "I recused myself, on account o' the fact that I was sleeping with that assistant editor. It's possible that there may have been a shirtless picture of me in the Bulletin. For promotional purposes. I, uh, don't remember."

Rukia snorted through her nose and rolled her eyes again. Momo would know and almost certainly owned a copy. Rukia wondered if the lieutenant of the Fifth would be willing to arm wrestle for it. Rukia was very good at arm wrestling.

Renji stopped and waved his arms like a model trying to sell something. "Here we are! Whaddya think?"

He was gesturing at a storefront under a sign that read Land of the Dead Tattoo Cooperative. The windows were taped over with pictures of colorful, elaborate tattoos, more akin to the ones Rukia had seen in the World of the Living than the usual monochrome clan sigils or simple iconography you saw among most Soul Society body art.

"I feel like you're introducing me to your family," Rukia complained.

"Relax, they'll love you," Renji teased, pulling her inside.

Rukia still couldn't get used to people shouting Renji's name when she walked into places with him, even though it happened constantly. It sometimes seemed like he knew everyone in the Seireitei. His other friends seemed to regard this sort of thing as part and parcel of the Abarai Renji experience. But too much of Rukia's conception of him was tied up in the furtive skulking of their youth, lurking on the fringes of the rough society where they lived, trying to remain unnoticed. Rukia herself was still a skulker, never quite fitting into a group of strangers, always hesitant to jump into a conversation. Not so Renji, who had broken out of his cocoon as a real man of the people. He was so natural at this that sometimes she felt like the Renji of her youth had been a lie, that she had no business hanging out with this popular, affable goon.

None of this ever seemed to bother Renji in the slightest.

"-beginning to think you had gotten lazy in that new position of yours! Do vice-captains not achieve things? Too busy ordering other slobs around?" a short, balding man with a long, thin beard was teasing him. His arms were solid tattoos, skulls bleeding into roses being crashed over by tsunami.

"Been achieving plenty, I've just been off-plane for most of the last six months! Speaking of which, what are you doing here? I thought you were retired!"

"Ehhhh, I wanted to see how Tenryuu's apprentice was coming along, and then I heard you were coming in today so I thought I could come take the piss out of you, hit two birds with one stone. You on the protein again or something? You keep getting bigger."

"I don't know about that," Renji put off, but Rukia suddenly realized it was true. He had somehow managed to put on more bulk over the last year. Maybe it had something to do with making bankai. Her train of thought, however, was interrupted by more shouting.

"Ora, ora, ora! Off my boy, Pops, he's mine now!"

The tallest woman Rukia had ever seen muscled the older gentleman out of the way, grabbing Renji around the neck, and bonking foreheads with him, like they were mountain goats or something. Half of her hair was shaved off and the other half was dyed an eye-wrenching purple, which matched her extensive eye make-up. She wore a sleeveless leather vest in the Living World style, which showed off muscular forearms, one of which was decorated with a snarling tiger, the other with a very saucy mermaid. She looked like Renji, if Renji were a girl. Rukia fell in love with her instantly.

"You're not that big," the woman declared, and unceremoniously flexed a bicep in Renji's face. "C'mon, put 'em up!"

Renji groaned, as if this were somehow a trial and not his love language, then shoved his sleeve up to his shoulder and mirrored the gesture.

"He's gettin' up on you, for sure, Tenryuu," the old man shook his head.

Renji looked back at Rukia over his shoulder, making that big, stupidly cute grin he always made when he was showing off. "Your call, Rukia!"

Rukia's eyes darted from bulging, tattooed arm to bulging, tattooed arm. Her knees went weak. This was too hard. "I… cannot…" she sputtered.

Fortunately, she didn't need to. "Abarai, is this her?" the large, fantastically hot woman yelled. "She's so tiny and cute! I love her!"

Renji cleared his throat disapprovingly, a habit, Rukia realized, that he might have picked up from Byakuya. "Tenryuu Shiko, this here's Lieutenant Kuchiki Rukia of the Thirteenth Division, my best friend, and your client. She's adorable, it's true, but she's also much tougher than I am, and knows kidou to boot."

Rukia felt her heart drop into her stomach. "She's going to do my tattoo?"

"Yep," Tenryuu replied proudly.

"She's really good, Ru, you'll probably fall asleep," Renji reassured her.

"I wasn't worried about that! I don't wanna take your tattoo artist! Who's gonna do yours?"

"We already worked that out," Renji explained. "Apparently, I am so perfect, I am going to be used as a teaching tool."

"That's absolutely not what I said," Tenryuu corrected. "I said you were a good example, as in, you are a good example of what weirdoes shinigami can be. Anyway, Yamashina's in the back, let's go introduce you."

"Before you go-" the older man with the beard said gently.

"What's up, Pops?" Renji asked.

The old man ("Pops"? Rukia could not possibly call him "Pops") leaned over the front counter to regard Rukia carefully. "Lieutenant Kuchiki. Lady Kuchiki. Abarai said he explained this to you, but as the founder of this co-op, I just wanted to make sure you understood: Your clan has a family tattoo artist. He is the only one licensed to do Kuchiki family symbols. There's no prohibition on us doing you up, but he might refuse to ink you later if he found out you got a tattoo from someplace else."

Rukia nodded firmly. "I understand. It's fine. I don't want any Kuchiki-style tattoos." She set her jaw. "I'll get my tattoos where Renji does, thank you." She glanced up at her friend, and was shocked by the emotion in his eyes. Surely this wasn't such a big deal, was it?

Fortunately, Tenryuu broke the tension. "Don't see why anyone would want a tatt of that weird octopus-lookin' thing anyway," she declared loftily.

"Don't push it, Tenryuu!" Pops scolded. "Very pleased to have you as a customer, Lady Kuchiki."

"Thank you," Rukia replied. "And Lieutenant Kuchiki is fine."

"Does he have a real name?" Rukia hissed to Renji as Tenryuu led them through the tattoo studio.

Renji waved to an artist with a very large, bushy mustache before turning back to Rukia. "Kuromoto Tsutomu. He started this co-op by runnin' around the Rukon and looking for people who would make good tattoo artists and then gettin' 'em work permits to move up to higher districts. He's also the man responsible for The Brows and everything on my back north of the shoulder blades."

"I see," Rukia replied icily, and Renji chuckled. "What do you mean by 'people who would make good tattoo artists'? Like... dead tattoo artists?"

"Well, as I understand it," Renji said a little louder, clearly inviting Tenryuu to chip in, "there's two things you need in order to ink souls: artistic talent and enough spiritual pressure to punch ink into a soul hard enough to make it stick."

"Do I tell people you have enough spiritual pressure to punch extra holes in Hollows?" Tenryuu griped.

"I dunno. Maybe? That's probably what Rukia tells people I do."

"I do not!" Rukia protested. "I know you prefer stabbing! I mean, you could probably punch a hole in a Hollow, if you put your heart into it."

Renji gestured at her, as if to prove his point.

Tenryuu rolled her eyes indulgently. "Anyway, he's close enough. Pops was doing tatts in the Living World back when they got outlawed in the Edo era. Now, he lives as he died, fighting the man. I inked people when I was alive, too, but that was a lot more recent. My apprentice, Yamashina, used to be an acupuncturist, but he was a painter as a hobby. He's got a real talent for tattooing, though, he was a great find."

"How... do you remember?" Rukia asked hesitantly. She'd never met a soul, other than the very recently killed, who remembered even the basics about their human life.

Tenryuu scratched at the shaved side of her head. "Dunno. Just do. Pops says holding onto living memories is actually a good sign that someone's got the talent, though." She pushed aside a brightly printed curtain that led to a quiet backroom. "YAMASHINA!"

"Maybe you shouldn't shout so much when I am organizing needles," Tenryuu's apprentice replied. He finished carefully placing a needle into a wooden box, closed it, then stood and bowed politely. "You must be Lieutenants Abarai and Kuchiki. It is an honor."

Yamashina was not at all what Rukia had expected. He was a middle-aged man with sharp features and a pair of spectacles perched on a beak-like nose. He was dressed in the typical outfit of a Seireitei artisan, but there was something about his appearance that would have looked much more at home in the modern Living World.

"Abarai, Abarai's beautiful friend, this is my apprentice, Yamashina," Tenryuu announced. "Technically he's my apprentice, but this is actually his last test before he makes journeyman."

Yamashina nodded mildly. "I appreciate you putting your trust in me, Lieutenant Abarai."

"I keep telling him this is a joke of a test," Tenryuu tipped her head toward Renji. "I mean, on one hand, you're a lieutenant, but you also take ink like no one I've ever met." She jerked her chin towards Yamashina. "Go ahead, check his zanpakutou."

Renji shook his sleeve back and held out his arm- clearly this was a thing he was used to.

"You studied his blueprints, right?" Tenryuu asked. "We're doing stripes 4C and 4D, upper thighs."

"I studied the blueprints," Yamashina replied, coming over to place his hand on the inner part of Renji's elbow.

"We gotta do this before inking a shinigami, because a lot of zanpakutou spirits got strong feelings about body modifications," Tenryuu explained to Rukia. "They'll fight the ink if they don't like it, so we like to get a read, first."

"What… do you do if they don't like it?" Rukia asked.

"Change the design or turn down the client," Tenryuu replied in a very no-nonsense way. "Getting in a battle of wills with a zanpakutou spirit is no joke."

"Wow!" Yamashina exclaimed suddenly. He definitely did not seem like a man who said "wow" very often.

"I told you I was special," Renji announced obnoxiously.

"I've- I've never felt someone whose zanpakutou was so… integral to them," Yamashina sputtered.

"That's what bankai does," Tenryuu nodded. "Zabimaru's always been friendly, but they were a lot quieter before… last summer was it? I've only met one captain, but apparently they're all like that." It felt so strange to hear her speak of Renji's zanpakutou that way. Even other shinigami didn't get a strong sense of each other's zanpakutou spirits unless they were very close. Rukia had sensed Zabimaru a few times, which she had considered a pretty significant Friendship Achievement, but she wouldn't exactly describe them as friendly.

"I've met shinigami who were getting tattoos for the sake of their zanpakutou, but yours…" Yamashina shook his head in disbelief.

"Believe me, I know," Renji replied.

"I tell you, Lieutenant-strength reiatsu or no, he's gonna be the easiest client you've ever had," Tenryuu promised. "So, Kuchiki, you're up next. First of all, tell us what you had in mind for your tatt." She rolled her hand for emphasis. "I kinda have to picture it in my head to get an idea of how your zanpakutou feels about it."

"Er," Rukia stammered, suddenly feeling very nervous. She glanced over at Renji, wishing she'd told him about her idea ahead of time, so he could tell her it was dumb in private instead of in front of his cool tattoo artist pals. He was just looking at her like he always did when she was about to show him a new drawing, alert and interested. Don't be dumb, you dummy, she could practically hear him saying. I love all your dumb ideas.

Rukia took a deep breath and started again. "So, I've sort of always wanted a Squad Thirteen tattoo. The snowdrop. Just… you know, the standard version everyone gets." The relevant 'everyone' in this case was Shiba Miyako, who had the Squad Thirteen flower on the outside of her well-toned bicep, where one would wear a Vice-Captain's badge. To remind you who's going to take your job the moment you slip, she used to threaten Kaien. "I originally thought I would get it on the outside of my sword arm, but I ended up with a bunch of scars there on my last mission."

"Left arm?" Tenryuu suggested.

"Actually, I was thinking maybe the inner arm, instead," Rukia replied, tracing her finger over her bicep.

"Closer to the heart," Renji said.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Closer to the heart." She paused for a moment, trying not to think too hard about the way this big, obvious goon tended to think about these things in exactly the same way she did. "Anyway," she continued brusquely, "my zanpakutou isn't like Renji's, she doesn't usually care what I do, like, on a daily basis. She's pretty hands-off. Except that I was actually thinking about this recently- it was after- Renji, remember the time you made that joke about getting a snowflake tattoo to make Sode no Shirayuki like you more?"

Tenryuu made a noise in her throat and gave Renji the Judgiest Look in the history of Judgy Looks.

"You had to be there!" Renji excused. "There was context! It's a long story!"

"I see," Tenryuu replied dryly.

"But in any case," Rukia went on, "I started to get the feeling that maybe she does have an opinion on tattoos? She likes snowdrops, as it happens. They bloom in the cold and they're stronger than they look. But I think… I think she would like a more realistic drawing of one. Something sort of… delicate, I guess. You see tattoos like that in the Living World sometimes, I guess I've never seen someone over here with one…"

Tenryuu and Yamashina were giving each other a look, clearly the equivalent of an entire spoken conversation.

Rukia waved her hands. "If you can't, I'd be happy with the standard kind, and I don't think my zanpakutou would object to it!"

Tenryuu made a small nod at Yamashina. "Go check," she said to him.

Rukia had expected that Tenryuu would do the check herself, but maybe this was extra practice for her student. She pushed up her sleeve and offered her arm. Yamashina's touch was warm and pleasant. There was a gentle pushing sensation, like a kaidou practitioner probing for injuries, and she suddenly felt Sode no Shirayuki's presence, icy bright and… happy? Rukia blinked. Sode no Shirayuki was many things. Beautiful. Powerful. Determined. She was never happy.

"She likes my idea," Yamashina announced, drawing back. Sode no Shirayuki's presence abruptly retreated, like her volume had been turned down, but Rukia could still feel her. That was definitely odd. Sode no Shirayuki was not a hanger-arounder.

Tenryuu sucked her teeth and made a guilty face. "Abarai."

"Tenryuu."

"I know that I promised that I, personally, would tattoo this adorable sugar glider of a person who is inexplicably friends with you-"

"Tenryuu, I am telling you, she blew out Madarame's frigging knee once, you need to stop before she murders you."

"She does not need to stop," Rukia interrupted. "She can call me an adorable sugar glider if she wants."

"Maiming that grumpy cueball is very hot," Tenryuu shot a finger gun at Rukia, before turning back to Renji, "but my point is that I think you should let me do your stripes and Yamashina should do Rukia's snowdrop. He specializes in watercolor botanical illustrations. They're disgustingly gorgeous, but you know how tasteless most shinigami are, we haven't been able to find any takers so far. Go get your sketchbook, nerdo!"

Yamashina sighed and rolled his eyes, but went to retrieve it.

"I absolutely hate to admit it, but he's probably better than me," Tenryuu griped.

"Yeah, I know that feeling," Renji nodded. "Training someone up, knowing the whole time they're gonna surpass you." He looked at Rukia out of the corner of his eye. "Gross." Who the Hell was he talking about? Surely not her? He certainly wasn't talking about his own top seats, either, those buffoons didn't have half Renji's talent or a quarter of his drive.

"Very rude, honestly," Tenryuu added, giving her apprentice the hairy eyeball.

"Anyway, it's fine with me," Renji shrugged, "but only if Rukia's comfortable with it."

"Here we go," Yamashina declared, flipping through his pad. "I've never done a Galanthus, but I have done a Narcissus, which is close enough to get the idea." He held out the pad to Rukia. "I'd probably add a bit of blue and white watercolor...maybe a bit of frost on the leaves, or a snowflake or two…"

Renji peered over Rukia's shoulder. "What do you thi- oh! Oh. Wow."

"It's perfect," Rukia declared.


"Er… Good afternoon, Captain Kuchiki. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Byakuya looked up from the mission report he was scanning to see Captain Hitsugaya, hovering in the doorway to the Sixth Division Captains' Office, looking rather small and nervous. "No, it is the lunch hour," Byakuya replied. "I have completed my meal and am merely trying to get ahead on paperwork, as I must take leave later in the week. Come in. Is there something troubling you?" Byakuya gestured to the guest chair.

"No! No, no… no, no," Captain Hitsugaya shook his head. "No."

Byakuya waited. And waited. "Is there… something you require?"

"Oh, right! Um, first of all, I wanted to come by and personally thank you for the invitation to your party this weekend-"

"It is Rukia's party."

"To Lieutenant Kuchiki's party, yes, and also to RSVP on behalf of both myself and my lieutenant."

"Ah, excellent!" Byakuya's enthusiasm was genuine. He had mixed opinions on Lieutenant Matsumoto, but Rukia was fond of the woman, and Abarai had assured him that she was capable of comporting herself in a civilized manner when she so chose. On the other hand, he had begun to take a real shine to Hitsugaya. The young captain was a bit rough around the edges, being Rukon-raised, but he had a serious mind and an excellent moral compass. He and Byakuya had recently set up a weekly recurring game of shogi. Byakuya found himself a bit surprised- he couldn't remember the last time he had actually felt a tiny frisson of happiness to know that someone was coming to one of his social events.

"Look, I'm sure there's someone else that I should probably be asking," Hitsugaya mumbled, "but I want to get this right, and well, we're… fr… we're frie… we're Informal Acquaintances, right?"

Informal Acquaintances! What a lovely and accurate term! "Yes, of course," Byakuya replied, folding his hands in front of him. "You may ask me anything."

Hitsugaya managed a wan smile. "Okay. Well, the thing is… well, I'm a captain, right? I am a distinguished member of society."

"Yes, of course," Byakuya agreed.

"But, er, the thing is… I've never actually been to a thing with nobles before… well, I've been to cookouts at the Shiba house, but that doesn't count." Hitsugaya took a deep breath. "I don't know what to wear and I am afraid that if I try to dress myself I will just end up looking like someone's kid," he spat out very quickly.

Byakuya stared at him. "And you are asking me?"

"This was a mistake, I am very sorry," Hitsugaya sputtered. "I am going to leave now, please do me the courtesy of forgetting that this happened. Well, not the part where I RSVPed, you can remember that part."

Byakuya frowned. "I say this constantly, but it is truly reprehensible that the Gotei does not have some sort of… training program… to help high-ranking officers learn the tenets of entering the upper class."

Hitsugaya froze mid-step. "You say that constantly?"

"It is a great disappointment to me how little care most captains and lieutenants put into acting in accordance with the status to which their power has elevated them."

Hitsugaya raised one eyebrow.

"What I am saying, Captain Hitsugaya, is that you should be commended for taking this so seriously."

"Er, does this mean you'll tell me what to wear? Or… get me an appointment with your steward or something?"

Byakuya looked down at his calendar. The only thing written down for the next few hours was "Abarai - errand - long lunch." Perfect. Byakuya stood up. "I shall do better than that."


It had been quite some time since Byakuya had visited an artisan's shop in person, and he found the process to be rather novel in its quaintness. As he pushed past the curtains and stepped into Koshino's Tailor Shop, the apprentices working the front room froze and fell silent. Someone dropped a pin. You could hear it.

"Ah, Lord Kuchiki!" a man whom Byakuya presumed to be the senior apprentice squeaked. "Let me go tell Mr. Koshino you're here!"

"You really didn't have to do this," Hitsugaya hissed for the fourteenth time from somewhere behind his back.

"Nonsense," Byakuya replied. "I needed to come by here anyway."

Koshino swept into the room from the back. "Lord Kuchiki," he greeted with a sweeping bow. "My humble shop is honored by your presence! Are you here, perhaps to check on the progress of your sister's juunihitoe? It takes all of my time, you know, but it is shaping up to be exquisite, if I do say so, myself."

"I would like to see it," Byakuya replied, "but I have another matter of business. I would like to introduce my colleague, Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou of the Tenth Division. Stop hiding behind me, Hitsugaya."

Koshino's eyes swept over and then down. "I see! Greetings, and welcome to my shop, Captain Hitsugaya."

"Er, greetings," Hitsugaya returned awkwardly.

"Captain Hitsugaya requires some formalwear. His stature presents a difficulty, you see, but Captain Hitsugaya is a powerful and dignified man and I am sure that you understand he must appear as such."

Koshino's eyes gleamed. "Lord Kuchiki, how do you keep locating such uniquely sized people for me to dress?"

Byakuya affected an air of boredom. "I know your shop is probably entirely taken up with orders from my household, but I thought perhaps you could recommend another-"

"Do not tease me, Lord Kuchiki! I will have to work through the night, but it will be worth it! The Tenth Division is it? Dark green? Oh, I have the most wonderful brocade in a dark green, I have been looking for an excuse."

"I believe you are making me a new haori as well… how is that going?" Byakuya pressed.

"I haven't started it yet," Koshino waved him off. "Captain, you have the most striking eyes, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Urm," Hitsugaya managed.

Koshino leaned closer to Byakuya. "Have you considered what an attractive couple he and Lady Rukia would make?"

"Forgive Mr. Koshino," Byakuya intoned dryly. "He is constantly trying to set people up with my sister. I suspect it is because he wishes to bleed me dry by designing her a wedding dress."

Hitsugaya's face looked as white as his hair.

"It would be worth it," Koshino sighed. "Ah, speaking of people whom I think should marry your sister, please tell your lieutenant that his dress uniform is ready to be picked up."

A coughing fit suddenly racked Hitsugaya's body.

"It's not such a bad match," Koshino frowned. "Very down-to-earth fellow, good sense of humor. Lady Rukia needs someone like that, for her brilliant wit and big ideas to shine against. Also, with a frame like that, I could make him such a wedding outfit."

"Are you done?" Byakuya asked.

"Never."

"I shall tell him that his shihakushou is ready. If you would be so good, write down some cleaning instructions for it, as well. I do not think he is used to wearing silk and he has a tendency to bleed all over everything he owns."

"Of course, Lord Kuchiki."

"Couldn't you… just… take it back to the office for him?" Hitsugaya asked, having suddenly found his voice.

"Am I an errand boy?" Byakuya asked.

"I just… he works in the place that you work. It is literally no effort."

Byakuya just stared at him. "No." He looked back at Koshino. "Let us go see Rukia's gown, and then you may drape things on Captain Hitsugaya."

Koshino rubbed his hands together. "Excellent."


On the way back to the Thirteenth, Rukia kept fingering the little sketch Yamashina had given her. She had worried a little that she might lose her nerve upon visiting the tattoo shop, but everyone had been so nice, and the design was so pretty, and she was already picturing it on her arm. She teased Renji from time to time about his ink, but at the moment, she honestly couldn't understand how he could go so many years knowing what he wanted the final product to look like and just getting them done onesie-twosie. But that was one of those secret Renji things that his acquaintances would never guess, but all his close friends knew: he was nothing if not patient.

"Hey, uh, Ru?" Renji said very casually.

Rukia glanced up warily. He had used his special nickname for her, which either meant he was feeling especially affectionate or he was going to say something she wasn't going to like. She had a feeling it was the latter.

"Yesssss?" she asked suspiciously.

"So, I was talking the other day with Captain Kamata- you know, the head of your House Guard?"

"Yes, I know who he is," Rukia replied dryly. "No sense of humor. Hasn't slept in roughly 900 years."

"Welllll," Renji drew out, "I mean, I wouldn't want that guy's job."

Rukia scoffed. "Are you serious? Heading up a noble family's security? That's, like, your dream job, right after the one you've got."

"Okay, okay! I just feel for the guy! He says you always give him the slip at parties! Poor guy asked me to see if I could talk you into staying put for your own gala."

Rukia stared at him. "He asked you. To ask me."

Renji shrugged sheepishly. "I mean, I didn't make any promises. I told him I'd bring it up. We both know how it goes if I try to tell you what to do."

Rukia smirked at him. "Well, normally I would prefer to just let him sweat, but since you have entreated me so sweetly on behalf of that old chunk of jerky, I will allow you tell him that, yes, I plan to hang around at my own party, where I am the guest of honor, and everything has been arranged to my personal specifications. That man is such a dingus!"

"Thank you for the boon, your majesty," Renji replied with a flourishy little bow.

"You're such a soft touch, I don't even know why I put up with you."

"Takes one to know one," Renji mumbled out of the side of his mouth.

"Come again?" Rukia said loudly in mock anger.

"Where do you go, anyway?" Renji asked, curiously. "When you sneak out?"

Rukia blinked. "Oh." She pursed her lips for a moment. "Welll…" She didn't have to tell him. She knew that all she had to do was tell him she wasn't going to tell him, and that would be that. A much younger Renji would ask her at annoyingly random times until she either slipped up or relented; adolescent Renji would just put her in a headlock until she squealed. But grown-up Renji respected her privacy, which was much more annoying.

It was funny, actually, because Boy Renji was actually the one she most would have preferred to tell this, at least the first part. "So, as you know, the early part of my adoption didn't… go great. Byakuya gave me all sorts of tutors and maids and people to tell me what to do and where to go, and I screwed it all up all of the time. They were universally disappointed in me, and then they would tell Byakuya about it, except that he couldn't actually be bothered to care. Nobody paid any attention to me at those parties, and at one point, I just felt ornery, and… slipped out. I mean, it was my own house, right? I could just go where I wanted? It wasn't even hard. You remember the time I got into the liquor storeroom at Old Man Endou's Gambling Parlor?"

"I do remember that."

"That was way harder than sneaking past a few house guards. It made me feel good that I could still do it. And it was fun to go around the house while all the servants and everyone were tied up in the party. I got bold and started sneaking out at other peoples' houses, too, just to check stuff out. I never stole anything, I just did it for the challenge. Then, one time I picked the lock on Brother's study. He's got those creaky trap boards in that hallway, too, I had to figure those out first."

Renji's eyes went wide. "Dammit, Rukia! When I told you to go become a Kuchiki, I did not expect I was being an accessory to crimes."

Rukia hunched. "I felt terrible as soon as I did it. Your stupid influence, you and your dumb conscience. I didn't even rifle around, I just went back to the party. I didn't do any sneaking for a while after that."

Renji let the silence hang for a moment. "Until?"

Rukia made another face. This was the part that maybe Teen Renji would understand best. "Well, eventually, I got some of this noble stuff figured out. And for a while I was… mad. I still wasn't good at any of it, and maybe I didn't want to be. And at that point, I started sneaking out of parties to go make out with people in the hedge maze."

Renji gave her A Look.

"Don't judge me," Rukia grumbled.

Renji's face was overcome with shock. "No! No, I wasn't! I have had a lot of bad decisions make-outs, I'm sure the people you made out with were a lot less horrible than the people I made out with!"

"Horny noble dudes are pretty horrible," Rukia pointed out. "They're bad kissers and they can't keep their mouths shut. Noble women can be cool, though, especially the kind that like kissing other women."

"Checks out, based on nobles I have known," Renji agreed, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"It got old, though," Rukia sighed. "I didn't want to cop feels in bushes. I wanted… I dunno. Someone to talk to, not just someone who was impressed with my big zanjutsu muscles."

"To be fair, they are very impressive."

"I know, but thank you." Rukia was silent for a moment. "Anyway, then my vice-captain died and my Third Seat died, and I didn't really want to be around people, period. If I snuck out after that, it was mostly just to get some air or to go look at the stars."

Suddenly, there was a strong arm around her, and Renji, grown-up Renji, her best friend Renji, was crushing her into his side.

"What are you doing, you moron?" she groused, having to trot to keep up with his stride as he hauled her along.

"Why'd you tell me all that?" Renji replied, his voice thick. "You coulda just told me to mind my own business."

"I don't know!" Rukia complained, as he let her go. "You tell me weird personal crap sometimes!"

Renji eased off, but didn't let her go. "I'm sorry you were lonely."

It was like the tip of an enormous iceberg, "I'm sorry you were lonely." How could he say a thing like that, out here, in the middle of the day, five minutes away from her division offices? Rukia wanted to hit him, to yell at him, to cry a little, maybe, or to hug him.

He gave her shoulder a last squeeze and released her.

Rukia blinked, and stared up at his face. It was stony. Thoughtful. Maybe, she thought, maybe this was the first step to dealing with the iceberg. To look at it from time to time and say, "hey, look at that iceberg over there," and then carry on as usual. It wouldn't actually get rid of the iceberg, but it was better than pretending it wasn't there and crashing into it from time to time.

"Thanks," she announced, and Renji looked surprised. "It's better now. It's… it's less lonely now. I've realized recently that Brother doesn't really like going to parties, either, and sometimes we talk about how we don't like them. We even," she leaned toward him conspiratorially, "left one early recently."

"Scandalous," Renji commented.

Rukia frowned. "You know, I don't think I've actually snuck out of a party in a while. Not since… since before last summer, anyway." Her frown deepened into a scowl. "So tell Kamata to buzz off, I've been behaving!"

"I will tell him," Renji promised.

"See that you do," she ordered imperiously. "And at very least, if I sneak out of this party, I promise to take you with me."

"I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to hear it."


When Renji got back to the office, there was someone waiting for him in the reception area.

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant Hinamori," he said, extremely formally, which usually got a laugh out of her. He assumed she had paperwork for him. Unlike Squad Ten, Squad Six was not a place lieutenants went to goof off in the middle of the workday, and furthermore, Momo was not and had never been a goofer-offer.

"What," Momo said, flipping a familiar creamy envelope up between two fingers, "is this?"

"Uhhhh," Renji sputtered. "If it's got my captain's handwriting on it, I'm guessing it's an invitation?"

"Mmm," Momo agreed, her eyes narrowed. "An invitation to a party for my nemesis."

Renji squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel the vein in his forehead start to throb. "Momo," he hissed. "You cannot come into Squad Six and call Ru- Lady Rukia your nemesis." He stabbed a finger at the door to the office he shared with Byakuya. "He will murder you. He might order me to murder you. I wouldn't, obviously, but-"

"Did you just call her 'Lady Rukia'?" Momo screwed up her face. "No wonder you haven't managed to kiss her yet. And you can relax, he's not in."

Renji frowned. "He's not? He should be."

Momo shrugged. "Your Fourth Seat said he went out."

Renji sighed. At least there was that. Momo might be a stickler for paperwork, but Renji wouldn't put it past her to start trouble with Byakuya. Truly, she contained multitudes. "So what, exactly, are you pissed off about? Would you rather have not been invited? You don't have to come if you don't want to, although it would be weird, to say the least."

"Skip the social event of the century? Held by my rival? Don't be absurd!"

Renji breathed out a puff of air. He was honestly not looking forward to explaining Momo and Rukia's thing to… well… anyone. It was probably his fault, to be honest. A lot of his friendships, namely the ones with Ikkaku and Iba, involved greeting one another with a punch in the face, or cheerfully shouting threats across the bar. Rukia and Momo had decided that this was a good and healthy way for people to have a relationship, and had named each other Best Enemies. As far as Renji could tell, this mainly involved telling everyone they were enemies, planning out their fights in nauseating detail (including venue selection and hand-picked guest lists), and occasionally getting together to do crafts. At first, Renji had suspected they were doing it specifically to yank his chain, but they both seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.

"I'm actually just here to accept the invitation," Momo tapped the envelope against her palm. "Captain Hirako and I shall attend with bells on. I just wanted to wind you up a bit." She winked at him. "Seriously, though, do you think I should buy a new kimono?"

"Huh?"

"This is by far the fanciest thing I've ever been invited to and all my nice kimono are very… pastel."

"You look nice in pastels! You have a light green one, right? With pink and silver flowers on it? It's nice! You wore it that time we visited the Kira Estate."

"Renji, that was thirty-five years ago."

"I'm sure it still looks nice."

"Why did I ask you?"

"I sure don't know! Maybe you should ask Kira or Rangiku or… Lieutenant Ise?"

"Renji, you have to understand. This is an event to honor my nemesis."

"It's just Rukia."

"'Just Rukia'! That's rich, coming from you! Anyway, Rukia's gonna look fantastic, and I feel it's my duty to up my game for her. What kind of archrival would show up in pastels? Do you know what she's wearing?"

"Ah. That's why you asked me."

"Maybe."

"Well, I don't know, so there." He paused, then smiled hopefully. "I'm getting a dress uniform!"

Momo cocked her head and looked at him fondly. "I bet that'll look really good on you, actually. How are you gonna do your hair? You aren't going to put it in a French braid, are you?"

"Come on! I-"

Renji never got a chance to answer, though, because at that moment, Captain Kuchiki walked in, chatting- chatting! with Captain Hitsugaya.

"Ah, good, you're back," Captain Kuchiki commented, nodding slightly at Renji. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant Hinamori."

"Ah, er, hi, Momo," Captain Hitsugaya added awkwardly.

"Good afternoon, Captains!" Renji and Momo chorused in unison, like good vice-captains.

"Captain Kuchiki, sir, I am here to extend the gratitude of Squad Five for the invitation to your sister's party," Momo recited. "Captain Hirako and myself will both be pleased to attend."

"Ah, excellent," Byakuya replied mildly.

Momo's eyes darted to Toushirou. Renji wondered if maybe she hadn't heard that Captains Kuchiki and Hitsugaya hung out now.

"Everything all right, sir?" Renji asked. "You weren't due to go out this afternoon." He raised his eyebrows. "Shogi emergency?"

Byakuya didn't laugh because Byakuya never laughed, but the very corner of his eyes crinkled slightly, which meant that Renji had nailed it with the shogi-based humor. "Actually, we had to stop by the tailor's. Your dress uniform is ready to be picked up, by the way."

Captain Hitsugaya cleared his throat. "Thank you again, Captain Kuchiki," he said gruffly. "I have to get back to work. I'll see you Wednesday at the captains' meeting."

"Think nothing of it, Captain Hitsugaya," Byakuya replied.

"You headed out, Momo, as well?" Hitsugaya asked, in what was clearly an invitation to walk together for as long as their paths overlapped.

"Hmm? Oh, yes! Good day, Captain Kuchiki! See you, Renji!" Momo dashed to catch up to Hitsugaya, who was already headed out the door at that rapid trot he always affected. "Hey, what were you doing at the tailor? Are you getting new dress clothes?" Renji could hear her voice receding down the hallway.

Renji realized that Byakuya was staring at him. Was he angry?

"It was very pleasant out," Byakuya said suddenly, and Renji realized his captain was making an excuse to him.

"Oh, for sure!" Renji replied. "Practically criminal not to get out of the office for a bit."

"Captain Hitsugaya required some advice."

"Good of you to help him out, sir. Sounded like he appreciated it."

"Mm."

Renji jerked his thumb toward the office door. "Ready to go jump back on that stack of paperwork?"

Byakuya gave a small, content sigh. "Glad to hear that someone around here still cares about that. Let us go, Lieutenant."